Escaping Reality (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #1)(68)

“I’m fine, Jared, but thank you.” I slide into the car and Liam follows, shutting us inside.

He taps the seat and gives the driver directions. I have never wanted to block out the rest of the world as I do right now. He turns to me and his eyes are dark shadows and turbulence. I expect him to ask about Jared but he doesn’t.

“You aren’t going to ask about him?”

“You’re hurt. It’s not time for fifty questions.”

“I thought the game was twenty questions.”

“I have fifty but I won’t ask tonight.”

But he wants to, and now that the miles are no longer between us, I’m not letting Jared get there instead. “I ran into him at the coffee shop today, but other than that this is the first I’ve seen of him since that night at Earl’s.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You wanted to.”

“Yes. I wanted to.”

“I’m glad you’re here. You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

“I didn’t want to promise something I couldn’t make happen. I wrapped everything up as I’d hoped early today. The woman my father put in the intensive care unit was moved to a regular room and I took care of all of her medical expenses and set up a trust fund for her daughter.” He grimaces. “My father also moved, from jail to rehab.”

“You’re a good man, Liam. I don’t know why you doubt that.”

He leans in and kisses me, his voice softening, rough like gravel. “I couldn’t sleep last night thinking I’d get back here and you’d be gone.”

“I promised I’d be here.”

“And I promised I’d hurry back.” He reaches up and holds the towel for me. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes,” I agree. “Yes, we do.” And not for the first time, I wonder if Liam knows more than I think he does.

“Right now, I just want to get you healthy.” He pulls me close and my hand settles on his heart. It thrums beneath my palm, a soothing melody that feels like home. He feels like home.

I’m going to tell him everything. I just have to find the right time.

***

I wake on my side, a bright blast of sunlight illuminating the room, and my eyes lock on the sight of Liam standing in the bathroom knotting a red silk tie at his neck. He’s been back for two days, one I regretfully slept through, the other we spent in bed together, but today he goes back to war with his “a-hole” investor. We haven’t talked. Not really. I was too sick from the concussion and he was too protective to do anything but worry about me. Despite the ER giving me a thumbs-up on a clear CT Scan, Liam is determined to get me to a neurologist, but I know he’ll understand why I won’t go when I finally tell him about my past. Or what I know of it.

Liam’s gaze suddenly lifts and catches on mine in the mirror, and my stomach flutters wildly. He gives me a devastatingly sexy smile, and turns to close the distance between us. And I am like a starving animal soaking in his male grace and the way the gray pinstriped suit accents his long, leanly muscled frame.

“How do you feel?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I sit as well and touch the small bandage at my hairline, one that thankfully has been downsized from gigantic the day before. “Ready to be out of bed.” I stroke my hand down his arm. “Or to stay in it with you here.”

I glance at the clock and note the nearly one o’clock hour.

“But alas, you must go, and I have the acupuncturist showing up in an hour.”

“Call me after the appointment and let me know how it went. I hate leaving you.”

“I’m fine and you need to take care of business.”

“I’ll make it fast, if I can.”

A few minutes later he is gone, and I shower and dress before heading to the mini-kitchen off the dining room area to make coffee. The instant I bring the table into view I go still at the sight of my notepad and computer. I didn’t expect Liam to be back and I never put my things away.

I walk to the table and sink down into the chair in front of my computer. My screensaver is on and my notepad is closed, but I open it to see what would be the first thing Liam would have seen if he had as well.

I’ve scribbled Why is there no record of the fire? and Who covered it up?,

both phrases underlined heavily. There are references to my hometown papers and my father’s name is everywhere. I feel sick to my stomach all over again and it has nothing to do with my concussion.

Liam may never have looked at these notes, but if he did, he is too smart not to put two and two together. I have to talk to him now. I have to make sure he doesn’t do anything to get the wrong people’s attention. I dial his cell. He doesn’t answer. I press fingers to my forehead. He never answers his phone.

A text beeps and I quickly glance at it. Just walked into meeting. Are you okay?

I sigh and type. Yes. Yes I’m fine.

Derek wants us to go to dinner with him and Mike.

Mike is the “a-hole”. I’m never going to get to talk to Liam at this rate. What time?

Seven. I’ll send a car for you.

I’ll be ready.

***

At seven sharp I exit the hotel in a white, form-fitting lace dress Liam had picked out during our shopping trip, paired with red high heels and a red purse, both of which I’d chosen.